


Monster Mash

by aderyn_merch



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater, The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: CW lots of swearing, CW minor torture/ threat of torture, CW: some blood, I think I'm funny, halloween fic, just general creepy halloween stuff, pirates ghosts and spiders oh my
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27311053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aderyn_merch/pseuds/aderyn_merch
Summary: Look. I usually don’t do anything too crazy on here. And even this is not some Assassins Coffee Shop AU, but it’s Halloween. The Veils between the worlds are thin. Things… Happen.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Monster Mash

_Look. I usually don’t do anything too crazy on here. And even this is not some Assassins Coffee Shop AU, but it’s Halloween. The Veils between the worlds are thin. Things… Happen._

* * *

Julian Blackthorn is running through the streets of New York. He blends in rather well with his shadowhunter gear. It is Halloween after all. Seeing people in black with weapons belts isn’t exactly odd. Except he isn’t out for a party or candy. There’s a rogue vampire. One that the New York institute has been hunting for years. Ashley, one of Maureen’s strongest supporters. One rogue vampire can wreak a lot of habit on Halloween. Bloody, disgusting havoc. And most mortals won’t question a thing. After all, it’s a night for knocking on doors covered in blood. So why hasn’t he found any victims yet? Julian thinks he knows. The vamp’s got a specific target in mind. Something to do with the signal the cell-phone sized gadget in his hand keeps picking up. Something powerful is nearby. He turns a corner. He runs faster.

* * *

Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase are out for dinner. It’s not something they do often–neither have money to burn, but it’s a holiday. The world isn’t actively ending, they survived Nico’s first Halloween extravaganza, and they feel like they deserve something a little better than pizza or a burger. It’s been a nice night so far. Both are trying not to think that it probably won’t last.

* * *

Henry Cheng is drinking alone on a fake ID. It isn’t what he intended to do for Halloween. But he had to travel to New York this weekend for an internship interview, and he isn’t about to sit around in the hotel room alone. He isn’t one to mope quietly. And now he’s had a few too many, and he’s not quite sure how he got where he is. But he figures that’s a problem for a future him to take care of. Or maybe even a taxi driver. Surely he can remember enough about the hotel to direct someone else back there. Or maybe the address is still in his phone. But future him can check that. He tries to decide if he wants another drink.

* * *

“Yeah, says the guy who got tackled by a zombie today.” Annabeth rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her lemonade.

“I tripped!” Percy protests. Nico’s zombie summoning powers had led to some very interesting Halloween themed training exercises at camp that morning. They had been fun until Percy had ended up pinned beneath a particularly heavy zombie and Annabeth had had to save him. Now she would be teasing him about it for a week at least. And it’s not like she had done anything embarrassing that he could tease her back about. She’d spent the whole exercise fighting in perfect form and looking hotter than any movie heroine (which was part of the reason Percy had ended up with a zombie on top of him, he’d been understandably distracted.)

“Sure, Seaweed brain.”

“But think about it. We’ve fought all sorts of giants. Would something as stupid as Godzilla really be that hard to kill? It would be like fighting a drakon.” Percy takes another bite of his cheeseburger. It’s got a pretzel bun, because they’re at an actual restaurant.

“The last time we fought a drakon that big it was Clarisse that defeated it, not us.” Annabeth reminds him.

“So?” Percy mumbles through a full mouth. “That drakon could only be killed by Clarisse.”

“Not to mention you were invin—“ The window next to them explodes and they both instinctively dive under the table as the glass falls around them. Percy pulls Riptide out of his pocket and Annabeth grips the handle of her sword. She realized recently that most mortals only perceive her drakon bone blade as an umbrella, allowing her to carry it throughout the city. Of course, today is Halloween, so maybe people do see a sword, and don’t particularly care. Either way she’s very glad she has it as a very pale woman with fangs stands up in front of their table. The woman doesn’t notice them. Instead there is a thump as someone lands on their table and the woman hisses. The small cuts that she received from crashing through the window are already healing.

Around them, people flee the restaurant.

Percy tenses, ready to charge out. Annabeth holds him back. Above them, the person on the table says “Raphael,” then leaps.

The women dives under her attacker and slams into Annabeth. There’s not enough space for Percy to uncap and swing Riptide. Instead, he scrambles out from under the table, as Annabeth kicks and rolls out of the women’s reach. Percy pulls Annabeth to her feet and together they back towards the bar and draw their weapons. They end up next to the guy who was originally chasing the woman. He does a double take when he sees the demigods’ blades, but then he lifts his own glowing knife and focuses on the women.

“Surrender,” he demands.

“Scared, little Shadowhunter?” The vampire laughs. She completely ignores Percy and Annabeth who continue backing up until they literally hit the bar. Next to them a young man turns around. He must have missed the stampede out of the place. His eyes widen as he sees the weapons. He drops his drink.

Shattering glass distracts the Shadowhunter. His head whips around and the vampire charges him. She rakes her fingernails across his face and slams his head into the bar before leaping over it. She hits a lever and the door to an old Speak Easy slides open. The vampire disappears. The Shadowhunter slides to the floor, clutching his face.

* * *

Julian fights for consciousness. Pain is pulsing out from the side of his head. Something hit it. Something hard. The table?

“Check behind the bar for a first aid kit.” A girl orders.

“Didn’t you bring your own?” asks a boy.

“I got it.” Says a third voice, another boy, but this one slurs his words a little.

Julian opens his right eye–his left eye is sealed shut with blood. Above him a girl with blond hair–curlier and slightly darker than Emma’s–accepts a first aid kit from some guy with blood shot eyes. The third person is nowhere to be seen. The pain in his head is still almost unbearable, but he is no longer in danger of completely passing out.

“Hold still.” The blond girl says. “This’ll sting a bit.” Something cold and wet scrubs the blood from his left eyelid and drips into his cuts. It definitely stings.

“Iratze.” he mumbles.

“What?” the girl asks. Julian pushes her hands away from her face and opens his left eye. Sitting up he leans against the bar and pulls his stele from his belt. He traces an iratze on his wrist and sighs as the pain in his skull starts to fade. The blond girl sits back and studies him like she plans to cut him to pieces and is deciding where the best place to start might be.

“What are you?” she asks. Julian glances at the weird bone blade that is now sheathed at her side.

“A vampire hunter.” He stands ignoring his dizziness. “Among other things.” He looks around the empty restaurant and swears. “Lost her.”

Behind him is the grating of wood against wood. Turning around he sees the third person walk up to the entrance of what must be some old Speak Easy. “Dude, she went this way.” The boy says. He’s a little shorter than Julian, and slightly darker. His green eyes are unnerving. “And did you say vampire? I thought those things were actual myths.”

Julian doesn’t respond. He simply takes a moment to breathe. When he is sure he is steady, he walks around the bar and stares at the dark stairwell Ashley disappeared down. There’s nothing in sight, just a set of stairs down to a little room lit by a single bare bulb. He’d better call Emma and the others and regroup.

“Not that I’m eager to seek out a fight with a monster that may or may not be an actual vampire,” the boy leans against the wall. “But do you want some help?”

“Who are you people?” Julian asks.

“Percy Jackson.” The boy introduces himself. He gestures to the blond girl, “Annabeth Chase, and,” he points to the second guy who has sat back down in his seat at the bar, “I have no idea who he is.”

“Henry Cheng” The guy at the bar says. He rubs his blood shot eyes and looks at Annabeth’s sword. “Sick sword. Where’s the rest of your costume?”

“Wait,” Percy pulls out a pen and uncaps it. Suddenly he holds the bronze sword Julius saw him with while Ashley attacked. “You can see that this is a sword?”

“Yep.” Henry rubs his eyes again. “I didn’t think I was that drunk. And it’s a costume, right? What’s the point of people not seeing it?”

“What are you?” Julian demands as Percy recaps his sword.

“Monster fighters.” Annabeth comes around the bar to stand next to Percy. “Among other things. Now are we hunting a vampire or what?”

“Even him?” Julian looks at Henry. “

Probably not.” Percy says. He waves to Henry as he starts down the steps. “Forget you saw us and have a good night!”

Julian pulls out his witchlight at the bottom of the stairs. The room is actually much larger than the single bulb can illuminate.

“What’s that?” Percy asks. He’s got his sword out again, and it glows almost as brightly, but a weird bronze light instead of pure silver.

“A witchlight.” Julian steps out of the light of the bulb close enough to the old bar itself to illuminate it. The place is rapidly decaying. The floor beams sag and so do the ceiling supports. On every surface is almost an inch of dust and tiny filaments of spiderwebs sparkle in the witch light.

“Seems handy.” Percy says, still looking at the witchlight. “What’s your name, anyway? We skipped you with the introductions.”

“Julian Blackthorn.” Julian mumbles, peering at Ashley’s footsteps in the grime on the floor. Quickly they trace her footprints to the edge of the room and to another cabinet of a door. It’s locked.

“Very Roman,” Percy says. “I approve.”

“Julian,” Annabeth suddenly sounds nervous. “Shine your light over here a bit.” Julian reaches over to illuminate the wall next to the door and Annabeth curses in what Julian barely recognizes as Ancient Greek.

“Oh, that’s bad.” Percy says. “I mean, we knew… but yeah, that’s bad.”

“What is?” All Julian sees is the Greek letter delta scratched into the wood as if somebody had been practicing their math skills on the wall.

“The Labyrinth.” Percy answers.

“Like, a maze? She ran into a maze?” “Not just a maze, the Labyrinth. Dude, maybe we should just let her go.”

“On Halloween?” Julian asks. “She’ll kill somebody. Maybe several people. Where does this maze lead too? I’ll head there instead and cut her off.”

“It goes everywhere,” Annabeth answers. “All across the country. There’s no telling where she’ll end up.”

“Then I’ve got to follow her in there. If I lose the trail it might be years before we find her again, and by then her kill count will be in the hundreds.”

Percy shakes his head. “I know. But trust me, there is no way to navigate that thing. It is literally sentient. It messes with your head. You’ll just get lost and die. Let her go.”

Julian hesitates. He knows he’s heard of the Labyrinth before. And then it hits him. Uncle Arthur’s stories. “There is a way to navigate it. I just need string, right?”

“One specific magical string that is about three hours away from here in an attic.” Percy says. But besides him, Annabeth is thinking.

“Well,” She hesitates. “I mean there is another way. That guy upstairs, he had the sight. If you can’t stop going after her, at least take a clear-sighted mortal.”

“Henry?” Percy looks shocked “You want him to follow a drunk guy through the maze? At least I kinda knew Rachel.” Percy looks back at the stairs. “I mean, c’mon Annabeth. You know what it’s like in there.”

“I know. But he needs to do this. And if he has to go, he shouldn’t go alone. That’d be suicide.”

“But a drunk guy?”

“And us. You did offer to help.”

“Fuck,” Percy whispers. He stares off into a dark corner of the room for a few seconds. Then he takes a breath and comes to his decision. “Ok. We’ll go. But only if Julian absolutely cannot just let this vampire go.”

Annabeth studies Julian, and he tries not to shiver under her gray gaze. “Do you really need to find and defeat this vampire today?”

Julian thinks, but only for a second. “Yes. Yes I do.”

Annabeth takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, composing herself. “Okay then. Let’s go get Henry and head back into the labyrinth.”

* * *

Henry Cheng doesn’t think he is that drunk. “So you’re saying you want me, to lead you guys, through a maze? Like a corn maze?”

“No, a labyrinth. Made of halls and rooms and such,” Annabeth clarifies.

“And nasty traps and deadly monsters,” Percy mumbles.

“Uh, okay, two things.” Henry holds up two fingers. They are still clear, so he isn’t seeing double. “One, I don’t do all that great in tiny spaces. Two, I don’t even know how to get back to my hotel from here.”

“It’s not so much navigating,” Percy says. “It’s that you can see the path and we can’t. It’ll be easy. And then we’ll walk you back to your hotel.”

Henry squints at him. “You’re not trying to kidnap me, are you?”

“No,” Julian says, “Is that something you worry about?”

Henry lifts one of his old glasses, realizes it is empty, and puts it back down. “Well, third times a charm. Let’s go.”

* * *

Annabeth is not happy about being back in the Labyrinth. Although her quest through it had not been a total failure, she had still been very relieved when the evil thing had completely collapsed. Now it’s back and she is in it. And their guide is a drunk guy they picked up at a bar.

“Who owns this place?” Henry asks, as he stumbles along after a brightness that nobody else can see and that Annabeth seriously hopes is not a product of his inebriated mind.

“No one.” Percy looks around like the walls are suddenly going to devour him, which considering that this is the labyrinth is not entirely implausible.

Henry just shrugs. “Whoever it is, they decorated very well for Halloween.” He points to a skeleton crumpled against the wall. It wears a New York Yankees Jersey. Annabeth, Percy and Julian exchange apprehensive glances.

“Dude.” Percy says, “That’s not,” he reconsiders. “Never mind. Just keep going. The sooner we find this vampire the better.”

They walk for a little while more before Henry says, “So is this a real vampire we’re after or some girl dressed as a vampire.”

Julian steps around a puddle of something dark. “It’s a real vampire. I don’t have a reason to be chasing girls.”

“I though vampires were myths.” Percy says.

“You’re a myth.” Annabeth nudges him. “I’m really not surprised actually.”

“I thought you said you were monster hunters.” Accuses Julian, glancing back to look at Annabeth. In the witchlight his face appears to be black and white.

“We are. We just tend to deal with a very specific subset of monsters.” Annabeth curls her fingers around the handle to Damasen’s blade.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that we only fight the ones that are either trying to kill us and eat us or kill us and destroy the world.” Percy responds quickly. “Oh, look, another skeleton.” He points further down the corridor. Annabeth slaps him lightly on the shoulder. He’s smirking at her when he runs smack into Henry, who has stopped and is staring straight ahead in horror.

“Tell me those aren’t real.” Henry points straight ahead. The hall ends in a large empty circular arena. Empty that is, except for the skulls everywhere, scattered across the floor, piled in the bleachers and hanging from chains attached to the ceiling.

“Anteus.” Percy mutters. Julian looks at him surprised and confused.

“Doesn’t look like he’s been back.” Annabeth steps forward slowly, drawing her sword.

“I really hope not.” Percy joins her as they slowly walk through the arena, weapons raised. “I don’t think I could beat him again.”

Henry meanwhile wanders over to the nearest skull. “Ok.” he says. “Ok. Ok. This is not a Halloween decoration is it? This is the real thing. What the actual fuck?”

“It’s an arena,” Percy says. “Those are the people that lost.”

“Um,” Henry says, “how long ago was this?”

“A year,” Percy answers, “but time doesn’t exactly work here.”

Henry swallows and nods. “Ok. I can handle this. Skeletons. Tunnels where time doesn’t work. I’ve done this before.”

“What?” Annabeth asks.

“Just not on this scale,” Henry continues, talking mostly to himself. “So let’s get the fuck out of here. And keep going and hope no one dies.” He starts speed walking towards the far door.

“What was that about?” Julian asks.

“I don’t know,” Annabeth started jogging towards the door and Henry. “But let’s not lose our guide.”

“Yeah,” Percy adds, “I’ve seen enough skeletons for one day."

* * *

_Unfortunately Percy hasn’t taken into account that on Halloween there really isn’t a limit to the number of skulls one can see. That does however, remind me that I seem to be missing some other Halloween necessities. Like, giant spiders, or pumpkins, or pirates for example. Or witches. I can’t believe I almost forgot the witches. Hope they don’t kill me…_

* * *

This is insulting,” Penelope Bunce says, looking around at all the people dressed as so-called witches. Most of them are in ragged black dresses, while others are in smart Hogwarts uniforms. All of them have a pointy black hat and fully unmagical sticks as wands. “None of these costumes are even remotely accurate

“Accuracy isn’t the point,” Shepard says, “Besides, it’s not like they have anything to go on. You guys are so up-tight it took me years to even confirm your existence. I found Mothman in like, a month.”

“And,” Agatha cuts in, “Don’t try to tell me that some of the girls back at Watford wouldn’t wear _that,_ if given the chance.” She points to a gaggle of ‘sexy witches’ in little more than corsets and tights.

Penelope scoffs. This entire holiday is ridiculous. Back in England they celebrate Halloween properly, without all this stupid trick-or-treating business. Seriously who accepts candy from strangers?

Shepard gives her a light pat on the shoulder. “There’s worse representation out there, trust me. Come on, we’re almost there.”

There happens to be the Empire State Building. Despite the hour the lobby is still open. Shepard holds the door open and ushers Penelope and Agatha inside. Then he steps inside himself.

The bald man behind the desk drops his book–a paperback with a big black wing on the cover. “No,” he says when he sees Shepard.

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” Shepard says. “I’m just here to show my friends around.”

“For the last time, kid, there is nothing special about this building.”

“It’s an architectural marvel,” Shepard argues.

“Go to the Chrysler Building then. Or the Top of the Rock. The observation deck here is closed for a private party.” The doorman picks up his book again.

“Listen,” Shepard steps forward. “They wouldn’t mind a bit, if you could just–“

“I meant it, kid. They don’t like intrusions. Now beat it.”

“But–“

“Leave.”

Penelope grabs Shepard’s arm. “Let’s go,” she tells him. “Before he calls someone with a gun.” They have a lot of them in this country.

“But–“

Agatha takes his other arm. “Let’s go.” She steers Shepard around and throws a brilliant smile at the doorman. “Thank you!”

Shepard stops a few feet from the door and looks up at the building next to him. “I _know_ something is going on in this city. And I _know_ it has something to do with this building. If they’d just let me look around…”

“Not tonight. Come on,” Penelope says. “I’m sick of this stupid American Holiday.”

* * *

Julian doesn’t care for graveyards. The fact that Henry leads them out of a creepy maze into one doesn’t make him too excited.

“Really,” he mutters as he turns around to see that he has just exited a mausoleum.

“Happy Halloween.” Percy mutters. “Of course we’d end up in a graveyard.”

“How cliché is this.” Annabeth adds, looking around.

Henry, who has sobered up quite a bit by now, turns a slow circle. “You guys know ghosts are real, right?

“Yes,” Annabeth says slowly. “You knew that?”

Henry nods. “So, there are probably some here, right? Hopefully some nice ones. Maybe we can ask them about the vampire.”

“Do you, perhaps, refer to the soul-devouring concept of capitalism?”

Julian whips around to find himself face to face with a shadowy figure that has what must be the most impressive neck beard of all time.

“Thoreau?” Annabeth asks. 

The ghost nods. “I assume two demigods, a shadowhunter and a mortal are not wandering the maze for a chance to discuss the finer points of life with me. What brings such an extraordinary group to my graveside?”

“We’re hunting a vampire.” Julian glances around like Ashley might pop up from some coffin somewhere and tear his throat out.

Thoreau nods slowly. “You will not find it here, I think. They tend to greatly dislike Louisa’s poetry. But I shall warn you, _Nephlium,_ not to get caught up in something so complicated. Simplify.”

“But hunting one vampire isn’t complicated.” Julian finds he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t even know who this Thoreau guy is.

“Not this time, Shadow Hunter. Sometimes you must take a step back to see the through the mud of society to the truth. Slow your chase and think. Something here is not as it seems.” With that, Thoreau disappears into smoke.

Percy shakes his head as if to clear away his confusion. “I don’t get it. Wasn’t

Thoreau a good guy in life.”

“He was,” Annabeth says. “He’s actually a step sibling of mine.” She doesn’t

expand on this statement.   
“Then what’s he doing wandering around up here? Aren’t ghosts supposed to

stay in the underworld.”

“They are.” Someone steps out of the shadows, literally. “Unless they’re summoned.” Julian stares as a dark-haired boy in a bomber jacket walks further into the witchlight.

“Nico?” Percy looks frazzled and even more confused. “What are you doing here?”

Nico smiles a rather creepy smile that almost appears insane. “You didn’t think you could chase a vampire in a setting and situation perfect for a horror movie without the Ghost King, did you?”

* * *

Henry isn’t sure what to think about this Nico kid, except that he is kinda creepy, yet very nonchalant about the fact. Something that reminds Henry a little of Ronan Lynch.

“This place again?” Nico asks as they descend into the labyrinth. Henry spots a tiny light off in the distance and starts to lead the others towards it.

Annabeth sighs. “Yeah. I’m not happy about it either. But anyway, why were you summoning transcendentalists?”

“I knew something was wrong somewhere. The spirits kept mumbling something about shadows, so I decided I’d better investigate it. I realize now they were talking about a Shadow Hunter.”

“You know about Shadow Hunters?” Julian says in a cautious tone.

Nico smiles. “You’d be surprised what you learn when you spend years wandering in the dark, Julian Blackthorn.”

Julian swallows audibly.

Annabeth glances back at Nico. “What’s Will up to?”  
Will? Oh, that’s what reminded Henry of Ronan. He was sensing The Gay.

Pulling a bronze pocket-watch from his jacket, Nico checks the time. “He’s probably doing his final rounds, checking up on the patients in the big house.”

Percy slows to take a closer look at Nico’s watch. “I thought time didn’t work in the labyrinth. You sure that’s accurate?”

“Positive.” Nico turns the watch over to reveal the tiny delta etched into the back. “This was one of Daedelus’ weekend projects. Apparently, the labyrinth hasn’t recovered enough strength to warp time as much as it did the first time we were down here. It’s still 9:47 EST on October 31st.”

“You make it sound like the labyrinth is alive.” Henry interrupts. “I thought this was just some big maze.”

“It does not have a life force, if that’s what you’re implying.” Nico studies the walls like he could see the life force if it did exist, and Henry can’t help but wonder what exactly the kid is. He’s seen a lot of weird things since he started hanging out with Gansey, and he knows that the supernatural exists, he just can’t be sure where Nico exists on the spectrum. He doesn’t seem to be psychic or able to manifest literal dreams. But then again, none of his current companions seem like that type. They could be anything. He’s barely scratched the surface of weird.

A sudden roar reverberates down the tunnel, knocking dust off the walls and ceiling.

Henry stops in his tracks. “Was that… a lion?”

“Unfortunately, probably not.” Percy answers. He’s taken his pen/sword out of his pocket again. “Let’s not stick around to find out.”

* * *

_You don’t think I’ve forgotten the villains, do you? I’ve remembered them. This wouldn’t be a proper Halloween fanfic without multiple villains plotting together to gain revenge against their enemies. Hypothetically there’d have to be some kind of scene where… oh say, Chrysoar, because everyone likes pirates, and the spirit of Horace Dearborn because ghosts are mandatory on Halloween, and Shelob, because giant spiders are also a Halloween essential, are plotting in a creepy underground cave to kidnap and torture several dashing (or at least slightly good-looking) heroes. They’d be double-checking their evil plans at this point, or trading back stories for the zillionth time._

* * *

“The idiot scared my crew away _and_ sunk _The Medusa.”_ Chrysoar paces swinging his sword in anger. His gold helmet sits off to the side beside Horace who listens impatiently. “All I wanted then was everything he had. Now I want everything he has and his slow painful death.”

“You need to take these things slower and plan for more contingencies.” Horace says in a bored tone. “You can’t expect to see a ship and jump on it and win every time. You don’t know what you’re getting into. Take me for example. I spent years gather power, creating a base of loyal supporters until I could take charge legally. And there was nothing they could do to stop me.”

In the corner away from the green light of a Greek fire torch, Shelob hisses.

“See, trickery.” Horace says. “Shelob agrees.”

“You got beat by a halfling.” Chysoar says scathingly to the spider. She spits at him and hisses some more. Chrysoar is quick to respond. “No. I don’t care what she did to you cousin, _I_ get the blonde girl first. You can kill her after I torture her. We’ve worked this out six times already.”

Horace sighs and looks at his ghostly watch. “They should be about a mile from the ambush point right now. We should get into position. Just remember we’ve planned this _extensively._ Trust me on this. Follow my instructions, and you’ll both get your revenge. As will I.”

* * *

They don’t even get back to the hotel before they see the lights in the sky. Shepard stares at the strange green light dancing over the East River.

“Is that?” Agatha asks.

“Magic.” Penny confirms. “But what–“

Shepard is suddenly no longer disappointed that the doorman of the Empire State Building wouldn’t let them past. He knew there was something going on in this city. He _knew it._ “Come on!” He starts running towards the lights.

“But we don’t know–!” Penny starts.

“That’s why we’re going there. To find out.”

They run several blocks, knocking aside tricker-treaters. And find themselves in a sudden patch of darkness in a well-lit city.

* * *

Julian emerges out the back door of a large building, under what must be a highway overpass. He can see trees beyond the road. “Are we back in New York?”

“Yep,” Percy says. He’s turned around to look at the building. “Rockefeller University. We’re by 66th and the East River.”

“But we were just in Massachusetts,” Henry says.

“Space isn’t the same in the maze,” Percy and Annabeth say at the same time.

“Jinx!” Annabeth says quick. “You owe me a kiss.” Percy does not look unhappy about this demand. He wraps his arms around Annabeth and gives her a slow kiss on the mouth. Julian looks away. Then he sees the lights.

“Can you guys be straight elsewhere?” Nico interrupts. “Because I think there might be trouble, and us non-PDA people probably have to take care of it.” He’s looking in the same direction as Julian. At the strange green glow over the river.

“Aliens?” Percy asks. He’s still got an arm around Annabeth’s shoulders, but they both are focused on the danger at hand.

“Honestly?” Henry says, “I’d believe anything tonight.”

“Should we go check it out?” Julian says.

“Do vampires usually glow green?” Annabeth asks.

“No.”  
“Then yes, we should probably do our civic duty.”

“Whoo,” Percy says, twirling a finger through the air. “I’m psyched. Let’s go.”

* * *

Penny cannot tell what the green lights are, or where they are even coming from. The three of them are all breathing hard when they finally get to the spot where the magic is, and now that she is here, she doesn’t know what it is. What spell summons green glowing lights? Certainly not “let there be light!” or “Bright as Day!”

“What are these?” Agatha asks, then shrieks as one darts straight towards her. She ducks and it flies over her head. Someone curses.

Penny whirls. There are people behind them. People with glowing blades. And the lights are going after them.

“Stop cutting them in half, you idiot!”

“Do you want them to hit me in the face?”

“This is definitely not aliens and I wish it was.”

“Not ghosts either, and I’d be much happier if they were.”

“All I wanted was one vampire–“

The people keep swinging their blades, but each time a light is cut in two it simply becomes two separate lights. And every time a light hits a surface, the surface burns.

“We’ve got to do something,” Shepard says. “They could get hurt.”

Penny holds the purple stone of her ring in her hand. She doesn’t know who these people are, but magic isn’t something that should be used to attack non-magical humans. And despite the glowing blades, these people obviously aren’t wizards. They are swearing, but not saying spells. Penny grasps at any spell she can think of. “Lights out!” No response. “Dark as night!” Nothing.

“Try ‘I want to believe’,” Shepard says. “They might be aliens.” Penny ignores him.

“Lights down!” Agatha tries.

“And we all fall down,” Penny says. There is more cursing and a couple muffled yells as all the people go down, but the lights aren’t affected.

Penny tries one last desperate spell. “Douse the lights!”

A giant wave from the east river cascades down on them, and when it is finished the glowing green lights are gone.

“Well,” says one of the people. He is a tall boy with dark curly hair and startlingly green eyes, even in the dark. “I feel stupid.”

The blond girl next to him wrings out her hair. She sighs. “Can you at least use your super powers to dry me off?”

“Sure.” The boy runs a hand through the blond girl’s hair, then flicks a large amount of water into a puddle in the grass.

“There’s an innuendo somewhere in there,” one of the other boys is musing. This one is clawing his hair out of his eyes. “But it escapes me right now. So can you dry me off too? I can’t go around with my hair like this.”

The green eyes boy lays a hand on this one’s shoulder, and flings another wave of water. The other boy goes to work trying to get his hair to stand vertical again. Surprisingly it’s working. The green-eyed boy dries the other two members of their party in much the same way. Penny stares. She isn’t sure what kind of spell he is using, but it doesn’t even seem like he has an amplifier. This isn’t right.

Shepard has no such qualms. He steps forward and sticks out his hand. “Hello. I’m Shepard from Omaha.”

“Oh,” says the green-eyed boy. He gives Shepard a handshake. “I’m Percy Jackson. I don’t think I’ve ever been to Nebraska.”

The blond girl shakes Shepard’s hand too. “And that’s lucky for Nebraska. I’m Annabeth Chase.”

“Henry Cheng,” says the boy with the vertical hair.

“Nico Di’Angelo.” This boy is still lying on the ground. He doesn’t seem eager to get back up. One shoulder of his bomber jacket it still smoking or steaming.

“Julian Blackthorn,” says the last boy. He crosses his arms and looks from Shepard to Penny to Agatha. “Are you guys warlocks?”

Shepard waves a hand at Penny and Agatha. “They prefer witches. Or Speakers.”

“Shepard,” Penny hisses. He ignores her.

“Me? I’m just a regular-ass human. Are you Speakers too?”

“Um, no.” Julian says. “We’re monster hunters.” He too is looking at Percy a little wearily. Like he doesn’t know what Percy is capable of either.

“On the contrary,” Henry interrupts. “I too, am a regular-ass human.”

“Wait, but what about all the stuff you said–?” Annabeth looks confused.

“Don’t mess with Ley Lines,” is all Henry says. 

“So were the lights monsters?” Agatha asks.

“Not any like I’ve seen before,” Annabeth says.

“No, that was definitely some sort of magic,” Julian scuffs a boot through the grass. “I just don’t know who would do such a thing. The only warlock that would want to hurt me is dead.”

Annabeth is thinking. It is very obvious in the distracted gaze of her gray eyes. “I suppose it could be one of our enemies, the problem is that every time we turn around another one pops up. It’s a bit like whack-a-mole honestly.”

Percy musses his hair. “Could it be one of Setne’s cronies?”  
“Who?” Nico asks, just as Annabeth says “Probably not.”

Henry Cheng has stopped re-arranging his impressive hair. Instead he is calmly observing everyone around him, including Shepard. “Hang on a moment,” he says, “I thought you guys,” he waves at Percy, Annabeth, Nico and Julian, “were all the same. But you’re not. You’re a–what was that again?–A shadowhunter,” he points at Julian. “But you three are...?”

“Demigods,” Percy says, “Greek Demigods.”

“Nice,” Henry says, and then he gestures to Agatha and Penny, “And you guys are Speakers which I have a feeling are also completely separate.”

“This still sounds like Setne to me,” Percy says, “this whole mixing of mythologies.”

Annabeth sighs and digs a battered flip-phone from her pocket. “I’ll text Sadie and make sure, but I think this is something else.”

Shepard is staring at the demigods in awe. “Wow. Tell me, are you from Greece or are you based somewhere in America?”

Julian however, is looking suspiciously at Henry. “How are you taking this so calmly.”

“Two of my friends have an adopted half-goat dream child and the other two can’t kiss because he’ll die–for the third time. You get used to it.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask.”

Penny finally decides that this is enough. She steps forward “Well whatever is going on, it doesn’t involve us. I think we should go.”

Shepard looks disappointed. Penny gives him a pointed look. “We’re already in enough trouble as it is. Doing magic for non-magicians won’t help us.”

“Fair enough,” Annabeth says. She’s still staring at her phone. “Thanks for the help though.”  
“Right,” Penny says. She grabs Shepard’s arm. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Annabeth is starting to get annoyed. She knows that logically, the emotion she should feel right now should be anxiety, but she’s saved the world too many times to be anything other than annoyed by another crisis. 

“There’s something big going on,” she says as the Speakers and Shepard walk away into the lit streets of New York.

“What makes you say that?” Henry asks, warily.

Annabeth just looks at him. “Everything. The fact that three demigods, a Shadowhunter and a clear-sighted mortal with a very unique past are trying to find a vampire, but instead find a bunch of evil fire-balls and two witches. This doesn’t just happen.”

“Does Sadie know anything about it?” Percy asks.

“No. She says she’s in Egypt right now.” Annabeth slips her phone back into her pocket.

Julian is looking at her very shrewdly. There is something unsettling about him that makes Annabeth glad that he is on their side. Or at least, she _thinks_ he is on their side. “You think this is a trap?”

“Occam’s Razor,” Nico cuts in. He finally sits up. “Or, as Thoreau would say, ‘Simplify.’ Coincidence doesn’t exist. Someone was obviously trying to hurt us just then. Ergo, it was a trap. And something bigger is going on.”

“What though?” Percy asks. “Who would have a grudge against both demigods and shadowhunters? I didn’t even know you guys existed until tonight.”

“And what, specifically are you?” Annabeth asks. She is glaring at Julian, trying not to be unnerved. If she knows more than a name or a two-word description, surely, she’ll be able to decide if she can trust him.

“We’re trained fighters with angel blood in our veins.” Julian says this all in a matter of fact and toneless voice. “We hunt demons and other threats to mundane. Some say it’s a mission from God. I’m not exactly sure He exists, but I’ve fought enough demons to know that _they_ do.”

“You’re the monotheistics,” Annabeth says, tension easing out of her shoulders. “Chiron’s made veiled mentions of you for years, I just never thought… Well that makes sense.”

“And they’re on a mission from Gawd,” Percy adds, changing his New York accent to a bad Jersey one. Henry laughs.

“I forgot my sunglasses,” he says.

Julian looks confused. “Why would you need sunglasses?”

“Dude?” Henry asks, “You’ve never seen that movie?”

“What movie?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Annabeth interrupts. “Back to the original question. Who would have an interest in hurting both Greek Demigods and Shadowhunters?”

“Aetheists?” Henry asks.

“Elon Musk?” Nico posits. They stare at him. “What? He isn’t the greatest person in the universe and he definitely has the money to find out about our existence and hire hit-men.”

“That’s like assuming it’s Scientology that’s after us,” Annabeth says. “I don’t think it’s anyone mortal. It has to be someone with the skills to create magic glowing green fire-balls.”

Julian shakes his head. “Magic isn’t something special. All you need is instructions. I mean, yes, it takes energy that some people are born with, but with the right power source, anyone could complete a spell.”

“So it’s either someone with this energy,” Henry says, “a magician or whatever, or someone who would be able to buy a power-source. That doesn’t narrow it down very much at all.”

“I don’t think it’s a warlock,” Julian insists. “They’re the only group on my side of things that has an innate ability for magic. Well, besides Fairies, and I don’t think this is them either.”

“It could be a child of Hecate,” Annabeth says, “But I believe most of them are on our side after the Titan War.”

“So logically.” Julian nods, “It’s someone who had to purchase a power source. And there’s only one place I know of where they could get one of those. The Shadow Market.”

“And where is that?” Percy asks. “Is it here in New York?”

Julian frowns. “I’m sure there is one here, but I don’t know where it could be. I know where the one in LA is though. If we take the Labyrinth there, I could ask for information.”

“Are we sure the Labyrinth is the best idea?” Nico asks. “I could Shadow Travel all of us there.”

“No,” Annabeth shakes her head. “That’s against the doctor’s orders. And I appreciate being on Will’s good side.”

“I can get you back through the Labyrinth,” Henry says. “It didn’t seem too dangerous last time. Creepy yes, but not dangerous.”

“Yet,” Percy said.

Annabeth thought that was probably the key word.

* * *

Somewhere below ground in the Labyrinth, Horace Dearborn cussed. “I was promised that those lights would not be taken out by water. This is why I don’t trust faeries.”

“Well then master of contingencies,” Chrysoar said, letting the sarcasm drip to the floor, “what’s our backup plan.”

In the upper corner of the room, Shelob hissed.

“Right,” Horace agreed, “the fact that the witches left does help us. But I’m hesitant to take the risk that they won’t come back. I can’t shake the feeling some other force is at play.”

“Then let’s take them out,” Chrysoar said.

Shelob hisses again.

“I _know_ that, you giant bug! I’ll assemble a land crew. Bring the witches and this Shepard of Omaha down here where they can’t interfere again.”

More hisses emanated from the corner of the room. This time a couple of pincer like clacks are added as emphasis.

“Well of course I’ll be gagging them! But what about that Son of Hades? Was he in your plan?”

Dearborn shrugged. “He is weak. He never recovered from transporting that stupid statue. And that other mortal shall be easily crushed. We have nothing to worry about from either of them.”

* * *

Henry Cheng is decidedly not comfortable in the labyrinth. He was able to ignore it while he was drunk, but as he sobers up, he’s realizing that this place is worse than the tunnels to Glendower. At least then, he was familiar with the people he was traveling with. Now though…

So the Greek Gods are real. And there are witches–well after psychics that’s not much of a stretch. But Greek Gods and part Old-Testament-angel demon-fighters is a little unsettling. And he’s in a claustrophobic labyrinth. _The_ claustrophobic labyrinth.

“This is the maze, isn’t it,” Henry asks finally. “The one that held the Minotaur

in the old myths.”

“Yes,” Annabeth says. She’s behind him, hand not straying far from the hilt of her sword.

“Wasn’t it confined to the space under the castle in Crete though?”

“It grew with Daedelus’ life force,” Annabeth says, like she’s remembering something distantly unpleasant. “When he died it collapsed, and I thought that was the end of it. But Pasiphae brought it back during the Giants War, and… yeah. Here we are.”

Henry isn’t sure what he’s supposed to be asking first. That it seems like Annabeth was there for the death of a millennials old inventor (or that she is hundreds of years old.) Or that there was a war with giants. Or that Pasiphae (also getting up there in years) brought the labyrinth back. So instead he asks, “is the minotaur still here somewhere?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Percy says, “I’ve already killed him twice.”

Henry decides that’s enough questions. He stares at the brightness in the floor. It takes a sharp turn and reaches a grubby white door. He opens it.

“This,” Julian says when he steps out onto the sidewalk, “is definitely not southern California.”

He’s right. The air is bitter, and rushes along the buildings. The people walking past have coats over their Halloween costumes. They are standing on the sidewalk across from a park that’s lit up. Something glistens in the streetlights.

“Is that?” Henry squints. “The Bean?”

“The what?” Julian asks.

“Are we in Chicago?” Annabeth asks. “Why are we in Chicago?”

“I… don’t know?” Henry says. “This is where the maze led us though.”

“Well it’s not very helpful,” Julian grumbles. “I don’t know anything about

Chicago.”

“Deep dish pizza,” Percy says.

“What?”

“About all I know about Chicago.”

“Right.”  
Henry shrugs and turns around. The door behind them is definitely not the front entrance to anything. He isn’t sure he wants to open it.

“Well,” Annabeth says. “I guess we go back in the maze.” She touches a hand to a tiny triangle scratched into the brick. It glows blue. She opens the door and ushers Percy, Julian and Henry in before her. “Let’s try this again.

* * *

They’re still in Chicago.

It’s been two tries, and they’ve showed up at Macy’s and Navy Pier. Now they stand on some random street across from what looks like a Museum and a park. Percy considers heading inside. He could use something to eat.

“I think the Labyrinth is broken,” Percy says.

Julian sighs and sits on a stone step. “Well,” he says, in a way that indicates he’s thinking it through. Everyone else waits. “There has to be a high warlock in this city,” Julian says finally. “It’s important enough. It’s got to have one. Any High Warlock is bound to know where the Shadow Market meets. It’s just a matter of convincing one to tell me.”

“And finding them,” Annabeth points out. “If you don’t know their name, you obviously don’t know where they live. And this is a big city.”

Henry has drifted almost a block away. He waves them over.

There’s a sagging phonebooth up against a building. A city phone-book rests under the phone itself.

“No warlock is going to be in the phone book,” Julian sighs.

“No harm in checking,” Henry says, stepping inside and grabbing the book.

Nico raises his eyes at the grubby state of the yellow pages. “You sure?”

“Let’s see…” Henry mutters. “Warlock… warlock… no warlock. There’s a wizard. A Dresden?” He glances up at Julian. “Know him?”

“No. I told you, the clave is secret, and Downworlders are even more so. We’ll have to figure out–“

They never get to hear what Julian wanted to figure out, because somewhere in the night, someone screams.

* * *

Shepard has his own hotel room. He isn’t quite sure why. He’s stayed in a

hotel room with Penny and Agatha before. Well, Penny before. Maybe it’s because at that time Simon and Baz were there too, and Penny figured if he tried anything weird, Baz would go all vampire on him, or Simon would just snap.

But they’re friends now, so he doesn’t quite understand why he’s paying for a separate room when he’d happily sleep on a couch. Or in the bathtub.

He’s thinking this as he turns and shuts the door of the room behind him. He turns on the lights and turns around.

There’s a crossbow aimed at him.

“Oh,” Shepard says. He puts his hands up beside his head. “I’m sorry. I think you might have the wrong room.”

“Are you Shepard of Omaha?” Asks the Fae behind the crossbow. It is definitely a Fae because no other supernatural being tends to be that shade of green.

“Uh, yeah. How can I help you?” Shepard hasn’t met a ton of faeries through the years, but he knows it always pays to be polite. Especially to anyone that has you on the wrong end of a weapon.

“Stand very still.”

* * *

“Huh,” Percy says, “I expected a lot more blood.”

They’re standing in the alley behind several large brick buildings off of North Clark Street. Despite the parked cars, no one seems to be around. But Nico has stopped and is turning slow circles.

“Does anyone else sense death?” he asks. “Like, a lot?”  
Henry has an eyebrow raised. “Uh, no. And I’m very, very thankful.”

“Of course you sense death,” Annabeth says, like this is no big deal. “Don’t you know where we are? Near North Clark and Dickens.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Julian still has a dagger out. He’s watching the fire escapes like something might leap down on him.

“Oh,” Nico has gone still. “Jimmy says he died here.”

“Exactly.” Annabeth concludes.

“Hey, relax,” Nico is talking to no one. Or at least, no one that anyone else can see. “You’re not in trouble. I’d haunt the shit out of him too.”

Percy leans over to Annabeth. “Jimmy?”

“The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, dummy.” Annabeth whispers back.

“Oh. The what now?”

Annabeth waves him off.

Henry meanwhile, knows what she’s talking about. “That doesn’t explain the fresh blood.” He says, pointing to the tiny puddle on the pavement. “Unless that’s ghost blood.”

“No, that’s new.” Nico says. “Dylan here just got murdered by a vampire.”

Julian makes an involuntary strangled noise. “Why didn’t you lead with that! That’s–” Something came flying out of the shadows and tackled Julian.

“Any last words, little shadow hunter?”

* * *

Shepard has been in some pretty rough spots. After all, he’s sold his soul to a demon. That doesn’t usually happen when everything in one’s life is smooth sailing.

But being trapped in this tiny, damp, dimly lit cave with his two magical friends gagged is a definite low point. They’re kidnappers have left a small battery-operated lantern on the floor, but all that does is create shadows. And something is moving in them.

“I want it on record that I haven’t done anything to anger the elves,” Shepard says. “So this isn’t my fault.”

Penelope grunts in what Shepard takes as agreement.

“But yeah,” Shepard fidgets with tape bonds. “This isn’t good.”

“Gone to shit!”

The weird croaky voice echoes out of the darkness.

Shepard stills. “Not that I don’t agree,” he says slowly, “but who said that?”

“Shit. Fuck. Balls.”

“Uh.”

“Bloody cunt!”

Something hops out into the light.

“Is that a frog?” Shepard says.

Penelope tries to say something that is likely along the lines of “it’s a toad, you idiot.”

“Boil your livers, motherfuckers!” Says the toad.

“Uh, no thanks.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuucccckkkkk,” croaks the toad.

“Well this is new.”

Penelope and Agatha both exhale rather loudly.

* * *

Percy doesn’t think. He has Riptide out of his pocket and is bowling over Ashley before he can remember that the last time he fought something vampire-esq he would have died if not for Rachel and some miscellaneous musical instruments. He and Ashley tumbled onto the pavement and he feels something scrape his arm. He hopes it’s not her teeth. Riptide skitters out of his reach. Ashley is above him, her mouth open, and then there’s a flash of white and she’s headless.

Annabeth sheathes her drakon bone blade. “That’s the second time tonight, Seaweed Brain. You owe me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Percy accepts her hand and she pulls him to his feet. He checks his arm, but he’s not bleeding.

“Are you a vampire?” Nico asks.

Percy lifts his scratched arm. “No cravings of blood yet.”

“No overwhelming desires to go for someone’s neck?” Henry asks.

“No.”

Annabeth opens her mouth. Nico glares at her. She closes it.

Julian is studying Ashley’s body. “Well, this explains why we kept appearing in Chicago.”

“Hooray,” Percy says without enthusiasm. “Your vampire is dead. We can go home now, right?”

Everyone looks at him.

“A guy can hope.”

“We still have to figure out who created those lights in New York,” Annabeth says. “But hopefully now, we can get to California.”

* * *

Agatha is very glad she wore sensible boots. Or rather, she is very glad the L.L Bean boots are in fashion. Mainly because they come with laces. Shepard sits in front of her, his bound hand working the laces loose and off of her right boot. He fumbles a bit, eventually sliding one end of the lace through the tape of his bindings. It’s another agonizing ten minutes before he ties the lace into a loop. Agatha slips the toe of her boot through the loop.

“Ready?”

Agatha gives a muffled sound of assent.

“Hang on.” Shepard stands, his balance a little unsteady with his ankles still bound together. Agatha’s feet dangle in the loop. “Now.”

Shepard pulls up. Agatha kicks her feet down. The loop of boot-lace tears through the duct-tape.

“Ahah!” Shepard peels his wrists apart. He un-does the bindings on his feet and then moves onto Penelope and Agatha. The toad in the corner croaks, “that’s the shit!” in an almost celebratory way.

“Oh thank Merlin.” Penelope rubs at her wrists. “Let’s get out of here.”

Agatha picks up the lantern and looks around. There are two paths out of the room they were trapped in. “But which way?”

The toad hops into the left tunnel, leaving profanities in its wake.

Shepard shrugs. “That way’s as good as any. Let’s go.”

* * *

They have to go back into the maze the same way they exited it.

“Huh.” Henry turns a slow circle. “This is not the room we came out of. So it definitely shifted.” They had left through a random door in what looked like a subway tunnel. They were currently in a circular cavern with four different exits, excluding the one they had just come in. The ground beneath their feet is gravel and not cement.

“Do you still know which way to go?” Julian asks.

Henry steps towards the third exit. “Yes. It’s this way.”

As a group they walk to the center of the room, and the spider-silk net comes up from all sides.

* * *

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>witches and shepherd of omaha currently detained in separate universe

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* * *

“Oh,” Percy says when the burlap sack is pulled off his head. “I remember you.” His hands are tied behind his back and his feet are wrapped in rope. He’s sitting on stone.

Chrysoar smacks him across the face with a gloved hand. “Good. Or I’d be forcing you to remember.”

“Hard to forget Crazy Dolphin Frank.”

Another slap. Percy uses it to sneak a glance around the space. They’d been drugged with something once they were in the net. Obviously, he has been moved. The cavern he is in now has several dripping stalactites. And he thinks it’s empty except for Chrysoar and him.

“A trick you will not be repeating.” Chrysoar stands and takes a step back. “Do you know why you are here, Jackson?’

“Like, ‘my life purpose’ why am I here?’

This time Chrysoar kicks him. “I brought you here because I want what is mine.”

Percy has to stop and think back to the time the Argo II was boarded by pirates. “Wait? You want your boat back? Sorry, but we sacrificed that to Mr. D. If you want it back, you’ll have to ask him.”

Chrysoar flinches at the name Mr. D., and to make up for it he kicks Percy

again. 

“No you brainless slug! I want everything you have!”

Percy just stares. This is ridiculous. “Dude, I don’t have shit. I only have like, fifty dollars and a pen/sword to my name.”

Chrysoar points to a far corner. “And her.”

Percy cranes his neck around. And finally sees Annabeth. She is similarly tied up except she has been gagged.

“Okay, first of all,” Percy says, feeling anger start to simmer in the back of his brain. “I don’t own her. Nobody does. She’s her own person. And second, if you hurt her I will kill you.”

“Oh, I don’t intend to hurt her,” Chrysoar purrs. “Just have a little fun. Then someone else has…how do you say it? Called ‘dibs’ on killing her.”

“Fuck yo–“

“And you won’t be able to kill me because you are going to die very, very slowly, starting now.”

* * *

Henry Cheng is tied up in a small shadowy room with Nico Di’Angelo. And he’s trying very hard not to panic. It isn’t working to well.

“This sucks,” Nico says dryly. He studies his bonds with disinterest.

Henry focuses on breathing; in, out, in, out, and not too fast.

“Well,” Nico says, “Sorry, Will.” And he fades out of sight.

Forget, trying not to panic. Henry is definitely not calm. He is not in control. He is very much in danger. He pulls against the ropes desperately. They don’t even stretch.

And then Nico Di’Angelo steps from nowhere back into the room. Henry just stares.

Nico takes a small, black pocket knife from the inside of his bomber jacket and starts cutting Henry’s bonds.

“How–“

“I shadow traveled to Clarisse. Figured she’d have something sharp on her, could cut me loose, and wouldn’t tell my boyfriend. He’s a bit over-protective sometimes.”

“Ah, well,” Henry finds himself saying, “at least you know he cares.”

“It’s for my own good, really. He knows I’d literally run myself into the

ground if no one stopped me. So he looks out for me.”

“That’s nice.”

“It is.” Nico folds his knife and stands up. “So. Any idea what happened to the others?”

* * *

Julian opens his eyes to find himself staring into the face of Hector Dearborn.

“I definitely killed you,” he says, before he can realize that that probably isn’t the smartest thing to say. Especially since it appears that he is strapped down to some sort of gurney. In some crumbling, formerly white, room.

Dearborn sighs. “Unfortunately yes. But fortunately I’m here now. And I finally get to kill you.” He turns as if he’s going to walk away, but remembers something and looks back at Julian. “And don’t tell me your precious Carstairs will avenge you. As soon as I’m done with you, I’ll kill that little blond slut too.”

“How. Dare. You.” Julian is seeing red.

“As much as I would like to stay here condemning your life choices,” Dearborn says. “I have torture instruments to collect so that those lessons will be far more… painful.” With that he walks away.

Julian pulls at his bonds once. The leather creaks, but doesn’t loosen. He’s trapped.

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re keeping the toad,” Penny says.

“It’s interesting,” Shepherd says. “I’ve never heard of a toad that can speak.”

“You heard the centaur,” Penny argued. “They were a joke. They can only swear because that’s all the spell lets them do.”

“Balls,” the toad croaks.

“That’s not their fault. And has anyone tried to widen their vocabulary?”

“It sounds like they do that themselves,” Agatha adds, “but only certain types

of words. And where the hell are we?”

“Hell!” the toad repeats.

In Shepherd’s opinion, the tunnels aren’t that bad. It’s not hot or crawling with demons. They have narrowly avoided some traps (thank’s to Penny’s magic) but so far, it hasn’t been the worst hour of the past day.

“I swear we were just in a subway tunnel,” Penny says. “But this looks like something you’d find in an Egyptian dig sight.” 

“I don’t think this place cares about your architectural expectations, Penny,” Agatha says.

“It just doesn’t make sense!”

They turn a corner and find themselves in a gray cavern, the walls and floor dropping away except for a narrow bridge across the center. On the far side the tunnel turns sharply, and light is glancing off that wall.

Penny, and Shepherd exchange a glance. Light could mean safety. But it could also mean danger.

“Quietly,” Penny says. “We’ll go slow and see if we can figure out who’s there before they see us.”

“I’ll go first.” Shepherd begins to pick his way across the narrow stone bridge. Penny follows behind him, with Agatha last. They avoid loose pebbles and make it to the far side without incident.

Shepherd leans against the wall and peers around the corner into the lit cavern beyond, and pulls back quickly.

“Shit,” he says, “that’s not good.”

* * *

Percy is bleeding. From multiple places. They’re all shallow cuts at the moment, on his arms, hands and calves, but that could change very quickly. 

Chrysoar pulls him forward suddenly, so he’s lying face down on the cavern floor. A knee lands on his back.

“I’ll get to your pretty face eventually,” Chrysoar says, “but I’d like to enjoy myself for a bit. Headwounds tend to bleed a lot, and I don’t want you to lose too much blood too quickly.”

“Fuck off,” Percy grunts. The knife bites into his back.

“Fuuuuuucccckkkk.” Comes a sound from the darkness. Chrysoar goes suddenly still.

“Who said that?”

Something moves in the shadows. “D’Arvit!”

“What?”  
“You’ll have to excuse my toad,” someone says, stepping into the light. “I just got him, and I haven’t taught him any new words. Hi. I’m Shepard from Omaha.”

“How–“ Chrysoar asks.

“Yeet!”

Chrysoar flies backwards so hard he cracks a stalactite. He does not move.

Agatha steps forward. “I didn’t know if that would work.”

“I hate that.” This is from Penny. She’s kneeling by Annabeth, untying her.

“Hi,” Percy says, still on the ground. “How’s it going? Thanks for coming back for us.”

“If was unintentional,” Shepard starts untying Percy’s bonds as well. “We got kidnapped by the Fae and then we escaped and ran into more, nicer, fairies and then we found you guys.”

“Fun.”

Annabeth helps Percy into a sitting position. “How grievously are you wounded?”

Percy studies his various new cuts. “Well. Some ambrosia or nector would be nice. But as we don’t have any, I’ll just tough it out.”

“You sure?” Annabeth has hands clamped around the biggest cut on his right fore-arm.

Penny steps forward and raises her ring. “Right as Rain.”

The cuts stop bleeding, scabbing over instantaneously.

“Sweet.” Percy says. “Thanks. Where’s Julian? And Nico and Henry?”

“The others you were with?”

“Yeah.”

“We didn’t see them,” Agatha says, “but this place is a maze.”

Percy gives her a look that is along the lines of a grim smirk. “Sure is.”

Annabeth is looking around. “I’m not sure it would be the best plan to just wander and hope we find them. But I don’t know what else we can do. Maybe try and get to the surface and contact Rachel?”

Annabeth helps Percy up. “It’s not the best plan, but any plan we make

usually falls to shit, so...” she furrows her eyebrows. “What are you looking at?” Percy puts a hand on her cheek so she can’t turn around to see.

“I’m not sure you want to look.”

“What?”

Penny, Agatha and Shepard are all gazing at the cave entrance as well.

“Fuck me,” says the toad.

* * *

Julian Blackthorn is still strapped into place when Horace Dearborn returns. Not that he hasn’t been desperately trying to think of a way out. It’s just that these restraints have obviously been designed for the desperate.

There is a metallic clatter as Dearborn sets several tools on a tray. He busies himself, arranging things, smiling in a sick way that he never had in life.

“I am determined to find out exactly what is wrong with you, Julian Blackthorn. Theoretically you have so much potential. And yet? What went wrong? I have to assume that your father had something to do with it.”

“I’ve made my peace with what I did.” Julian says. It isn’t exactly true, but as long as Dearborn is talking, he isn’t torturing. At least, not yet.

“I’m not talking about you killing him,” Dearborn says, “I’m convinced that your father’s previous ‘dabbles’ with the fairies has had a significant effect on all of his later children.”

Julian is both stunned and confused. “That makes no sense.”  
“The sexual perversion of your father certainly made itself known in your older siblings. Of course, they are half fairy, so perhaps that is simply why. But of course, it could explain you fell in love with your own parabatai.”

“That’s–“

“And your devotion to Downworlders. You’re inability to follow the law. Your failure to recognize that your brother Tiberius would be better off locked away…“  
“He’s not–“

Dearborn continues talking, as if Julian hadn’t tried to interrupt. “Hence, why I intend to cut you open and determine where exactly the last of the Blackthorn line became so deformed.”

And he lifts a scalpel in the air.

_This,_ Julian thinks, _is going to hurt._ And then. _This is going to kill me._

He watches the blade above him, waiting for it to descend and bite into his skin. Only to watch as it flies across the room.

“What–?” Dearborn asks.

The tray is knocked over. The table Julian is strapped to begins to shake violently.

“Stop! Who–“

The air around them becomes a transparent swirling white. And then it solidifies into spirits.

There are ten of them at least. All in the same worn clothing. All going after Horace Dearborn like they want to kill him.

Except that Julian is the only living one in the room.

The spirits must have Dearborn pinned to the floor, as the scuffling sounds stop.

“How?” Dearborn gasps.

The door is thrown open.

Nico Di’Angelo and Henry Cheng walk in. Nico takes in the scene and shakes his head. “Seriously? Horace Dearborn? Don’t you know where you are?”  
Dearborn doesn’t answer. Henry glances around the room furtively and then creeps over to Julian. He begins unfastening the leather restraints.

“You are in Danbury Asylum near midnight on Halloween. The ghosts are listening. Did you not think that they would retaliate?”

“What does it matter?” Dearborn spit. “They are dead. They may hinder me, but they cannot stop me.”  
Julian sits up, rubbing his wrists, and helps Henry with the ankle restraints. Nico tilts his head.

“Do you not know who I am, Horace Dearborn?”

“You are the son of a powerless ‘god.’ And you are weak. To use your powers to defeat me would mean destroying yourself. You’ve nearly done it before, and the line gets so much thinner each time you approach it.”

“Wrong.” Nico steps towards Dearborn. He holds out a blade that is pure black. “I am the Ghost King. And I am not facing you alone.” The other spirits still hold Horace Dearborn down, but now they seem to be pushing him into the tile. And then he is sinking. He scrabbles with transparent hands at the tile floor, but the earth keeps consuming him until only his head is above the floor. Nico Di’Angelo stands above him.

“And one more thing,” says the Ghost King, “There is nothing wrong with being queer. In fact, it can be pretty fucking awesome.”

And Horace Dearborn is cast into Hades.

“And that,” Nico says, “If what we do to bigots and fascists.”

* * *

Annabeth has her face pressed against Percy’s chest, trying to block out the noises. But she hears them anyway. The scrabbling and scurrying of something with too many legs and an exoskeleton.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” she asks.

“Not quite,” Percy says quietly. He begins moving them away from the entrance and whatever ungodly arachnid blocks their way. Annabeth looks away from his chest to see the Speakers and Shepard backing away with them. Shepard is tapping frantically at the buttons on his jacket and pulling at his hair and cuffs.

“Dammit!” he mutters. “I can’t remember.”

“Remember what? Have you met a giant spider before?” Penny hisses.

“I’m _trying_ to remember how the book went. Have you read The Lord of the Rings?”

“Oh–“

“How did Sam and Frodo do it?”

At this there is a hiss of displeasure.

“Oh God,” Shepard says. “You are Shelob, aren’t you?”

Another hiss and–

Spiders, in Annabeth’s opinion should not be able to jump. It’s bad enough that they can climb walls, but being able to leap ridiculous distances is just unfair.

Shepard of Omaha disappears under the weight of Shelob. Percy has Riptide out. Annabeth does not have her bone blade. Penny and Agatha both have fireballs in their hands, but if the spider goes up, Shepard burns too.

Annabeth tries frantically to remember. How had the Hobbits done it? To be honest, she’s never been able to struggle through the first book of the series, much less the third. And she had been so scared during that part of the movie that she had buried her face in a pillow and refused to watch.

Had they used fire? Had they used swords? She doesn’t know.

What she does know is that she is once again unarmed and facing a giant spider.

No fucking thanks.

Percy springs forward, Riptide glowing in his hand and slices at Shelob’s leg. Riptide passes right through and does no damage. Shelob doesn’t even seem to acknowledge him. Shepard is rapidly disappearing into a cocoon of spider silk.

“What–“

Annabeth realizes what must have happened. “It’s the celestial bronze! It doesn’t affect her.”

Percy swears, loudly.

“My blade–“ Annabeth doesn’t finish that thought. She begins casting around the cavern. Surely Chrysoar kept her bone blade close. Unlike celestial bronze, the bone blade isn’t picky. She’d accidently left it on her bed once back in California and one of her totally mortal step-brothers had cut himself on it.

Penny and Agatha are throwing fireballs like warning shots over Shelob. They’re trying various spells from wind to rain, and nothing is having an effect. Annabeth scrambles over a fallen stalagmite and finally sees her drakon bone blade. She dashes for it, and pulls it from the scabbard.

“Hey! You oversized arachnid!” she shouts. Shelob turns.

Annabeth suddenly remembers that this is a bad idea.

She tightens her grip on her blade. She’s armed this time though. And Percy is here. And–

“I defeated Arachne!” she calls, trying to sound cavaleir. “Don’t mess with me!”

Shelob hisses again. And charges.

Annabeth readies her blade. She won’t run. She won’t even flinch.

And then Shelob is burning. And still running towards Annabeth like a freight train.

It takes every last bit of courage Annabeth has to stay still until the last moment. Then she drops to the ground, sword towards the ceiling, and lets the flaming Shelop run into the blade.

Her sword is wrenched from her hands. Shelob continues past.

Annabeth rolls over and crawls behind another stalagmite. She is shaking. There are hisses, and pops, and the terrible smell of something that was once alive burning.

Percy wraps his arms around her. She lets him hold her and tries to ignore what is currently happening to Shelob.

“My sword?”

“I’ll get it,” Percy says. He leaves, and then returns.

“Shepard?”

“Um,” Percy helps Annabeth up.

Penny and Agatha have cut Shepard free from his spider-silk cocoon, but he isn’t moving. He lies with his mouth open, breathing but obviously poisoned or sedated.

“Fuckweasel!” croaks the toad. It had hidden behind a rock for the fight, but now hops back over and onto Shepard’s chest.

“Right as Rain,” Penny tries. Nothing happens.

“Wake up sleepyhead!” Agatha says. Shepard doesn’t so much as twitch.

Annabeth kneels beside Shepard, and points to the grazes on his neck. “He’s been poisoned. Is there a specific spell for that?”

“Not that I know,” Agatha looks at Penny, like Penny always has the answer.

Penny studies Shepard, and then puts the hand with the huge purple ring on Shepard’s forehead. “Kiss it better,” She says.

There’s nothing, and then Shepard stirs, his eyes blinking open. Penny removes her hand like he’s burning her. Agatha is studying her friend.

“Interesting…” Agatha muses.

“Shut up,” Penny says. “And if you so much as breath a word of this to Simon or Baz, I’ll tell them you nearly got seduced by a hippy vampire.”

“He tried to seduce me. It wasn’t even close to working. And they know that.”

“Just, shut up, okay?”  
Shepard meanwhile, is trying to sit up. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but was I just nearly killed by a Tolkien character?”

“Yes,” Percy says.

Shepard considers this. “That’s one of the cooler ways I’ve almost died.”

“We should get out of here,” Annabeth says. “While we still can.”

“Without Henry?” Percy asks.

She doesn’t really want to wander around the Labyrinth without a guide, but Annabeth sighs.

“I’d prefer he was here but–“

“Ask,” says a voice from the doorway. “And ye shall receive.”

* * *

“So you fought a giant spider and a pirate while we took on a fascist ghost?” Henry asks. He’s following the light again, but this time he wants it to take him back to his hotel. Or at least, as close as he can get. He’ll settle for just New York City. Anywhere where he can take a nap.

“Yeah,” Percy says, “as far as maniacal revenge plans, it was kinda lame.”

“Well I’m not complaining,” Agatha says. “I don’t care how easily defeated they were, I prefer not to be the target of any revenge plans.”

“Still, kinda anti-climactic, wasn’t it? We spent the entire night running around the labyrinth because of three annoyed former enemies, and they were each defeated in like, a minute.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” Annabeth nudges Percy with her shoulder. They’ve been holding hands for the entire trip. “You didn’t have to stare down one of your greatest fears.”

“You weren’t strapped to an operating table in an abandoned asylum,” Julian adds.

“I think you guys are forgetting that I was literally tortured.” Percy points out.

“Yeah, but were you poisoned?” Shepard asks. He’s got his toad on his shoulder. “Bollocks!” it croaks.

Henry stops in front of a door with one of those push bars across it. “Why don’t we just agree that no one had fun.”

“I did.” Nico says. Everyone glares at him. “What?”

“Shut up, Ghost King.”

And they step back out into the New York City night.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all are staying healthy and safe this crazy Halloween. I encourage you to social distance by staying inside and reading this instead. I wrote it to amuse myself. Because I think I'm funny. Hopefully I put in the correct content warnings. It's nothing too graphic/explicit, but it is Halloween, and things do have to happen.   
> NOTES:  
> I don't think that payphone exists  
> I know i forgot about Robo-Bee. I'm sorry  
> Please spay and neuter your swear toads


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